On Thursday April 20, while bombs were setting ablaze the Central Market in Khartoum Bahri, resulting from the ferocious clashes between the Sudanese army and the RSF, the heart of a young Sudanese man resident in Doha, Waddah Ja'alin was burning with fear for his family who live in a three-storey house in Saad Gishra neighbourhood, next to the central market.
Waddah (34) an accountant, married Alia (27) six months ago, and arrived in Doha two months ago, and was making preparations for his bride to come. Despite an overwhelming sense of rising panic, Waddah had acted fast, making a frantic string of phone calls to friends and contacts in Khartoum to make arrangements to get his family out from the midst of the battlefield.
"My family is very big," he says: "There are nearly 30 of us, including my bride, grandparents, parents, my five brothers, three uncles and their wives and children, and all of them were besieged in the house waiting for the preparations for leaving to be ready".
He adds: "War is like this, in one moment the course of your life changes: instead of focussing on my job and building a peaceful family, all my focus is on finding a way to get my family out from a deadly situation. There’s no internet, the water pipes are wrecked, it's getting hotter, there's an electricity blackout, the children are screaming and crying at every explosion. During every call I can sense the worry of the women, while my grandfather, father and uncles all stay silent, and Alia is crying. Every call was the same".
At 2pm on Thursday, Waddah had finally managed to arrange for two cars to pick up his family, who got into the cars and left everything behind, their memories and belongings. They took only their ID papers - as his mother insisted. Alia said to Al-Araby Al-Jadeed (°®Âþµº's Arabic-language sister edition) in a phone call: "When we got into the car, we felt revived. Throughout the long journey we were silent, all of us trying to imagine what would have happened if we'd stayed".
Waves of mass displacement rising
The car drove 120 km in three hours, getting the family to Shendi city in northern Sudan, where they have relations. Alia continued: "Everything [I own] was in the apartment I left behind, but I survived on my own. My husband is an emigrant, and I am now an IDP; this is an actual war" – at this point Alia broke down in tears and was unable to continue.
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Waddah says: "I'm happy my family has survived, and are now temporarily safe, but am sad at what is happening to my country. I'm hoping the conflict doesn't continue and plunge us into a protracted civil war. It's the first time Sudan is seeing a war in the cities, and I fear for the fate of every single Sudanese person living in this furnace".
Waves of those fleeing the three cities of Khartoum State – Khartoum, Omdurman and Khartoum Bahri are increasing - especially from neighbourhoods close to the areas where the fiercest fighting has taken place like the Republican Palace and the Army Command HQ. The estimated number of Sudanese civilians killed has surpassed 550, many of them women and children.
Leaving Khartoum has become an obsession for its 5 million sleep-deprived residents, in light of dwindling food supplies, electricity blackouts, and water scarcity. But leaving isn't easy - especially as a lot of fuel is needed to make the journey to the Egyptian border in the north (around 1,000 km) or to Port Sudan in the east (850 km) at a time fuel has become scarce and costly in the capital - where severe inflation was rampant and affecting most basic essentials well before the current clashes.
Sudanese expatriate Sami Muhammed Saleh (53) has worked as a security guard for the Qatari Ministry of Education since 2006, and lives in Doha. However, his wife Reem (42) and his three children; twins Abdullah and Basma (12) and Bara (5), live in the Sababa neighbourhood, about 1,700m away from the fire-ravaged central market.
Sami says: "My children and wife are terrified, electricity is down, but luckily my wife had stockpiled some foods. I call them each hour, and every time they are crying, and I am waiting for a temporary ceasefire so I can return to Khartoum Bahri and take them to a safe place."
The worst Eid
While the shelling isn’t immediately surrounding them, says Sami, "it's a war – and could spread at any moment". He has spent his nights sleeplessly following news channels for reports of the situation in Sudan and can't focus on his work; in the daytimes he is making constant calls to his family.
"At the start of Ramadan, I promised my children I would bring them toys and gifts when I came home, and we would have a wonderful time together for Eid; but this is the worst Eid the country has ever experienced," says Sami, adding that "with his children under fire" his mental health has deteriorated and the war is "killing him inside a hundred times every day" even though physically he is safe.
"All I ask is to be able to reach my family, and to get them to safety before it's too late. I feel like I've gone crazy - when the phone rings I start panicking, as I'm terrified one of them is calling to tell me my family is hurt. What's happening is more than a military conflict, and less than a civil war, but if it continues, Sudan may enter a full-on civil war."
Sudanese mechanic Qareeb Allah Al Qarshi (30) has been in Doha since the World Cup finals which were held in the Qatari capital in December last year. He believes the extreme stress of recent weeks has impacted his health, especially his stomach. In his last medical check, it showed he had developed "irritable bowel syndrome" (IBS) symptoms as a result of severe stress, which itself had caused him to be unable to eat or drink for extended periods.
He is the youngest of six brothers, and is known among family and friends for his sensitivity. He has recently become withdrawn, despite his friends rallying around him, and believes that he has developed IBS in such a short period due to several factors. First, he says he still hasn't got used to living abroad; and second, watching from afar the events unfolding in his beloved country.
Qareeb Allah studied mechanical engineering and is known among his friends for his love of cooking and his poetry skills. However, his overwhelming anxiety and obsessive need to follow the Sudanese situation have changed his life completely.
"Luckily, my family escaped at the last moment from the Al Sahafa neighbourhood in Khartoum, and moved to my grandmother's home which is in the East Nile area - but my friends are still stuck in their houses; and during phone calls to them they say they can hardly find water to drink."
"For the first time I am seeing bombing and missiles and scenes like these, and every time I call my friends my anxiety builds, and I start crying and can't stop," he says. "Since this 'war of the cities', I'm not eating well, and I forget to drink water… I feel like I'm stuck in a nightmare which won't end," he concludes.
This is an edited translation from our Arabic edition. To read the original article click
Translated by Rose Chacko
This article is taken from our Arabic sister publication, Al-Araby Al Jadeed and mirrors the source's original editorial guidelines and reporting policies. Any requests for correction or comment will be forwarded to the original authors and editors.
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